


Never Too Late

by Butterfrogmantis



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M, Some minor alcohol reference, otherwise sfw, some gambling addiction reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25106971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfrogmantis/pseuds/Butterfrogmantis
Summary: Living in a place like Bikini Bottom seems to have gotten Squidward at the end of his rope, dealing with customers and his annoying neighbours day in, day out. Sitting at the cephalopod bar one night, Squidward notices something strange about the bedraggled octopus sitting next to him. He bares a vague resemblance to his old high school rival; Squilliam Fancyson, although as far as Squidward is concerned, THAT octopus is surely a successful millionaire ...
Relationships: Squilliam Fancyson/Squidward Tentacles
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Never Too Late

“Just the usual tonight, Reg, no special occasion”

The cuttlefish behind the bar gave a noncommittal grunt and tapped off the appropriate amount of bitter into a glass before sliding it over to the octopus. The cephalopod took a large gulp, and sat it back down on the marble countertop with a satisfied sigh.

Squidward Q.Tentacles was a local resident in Bikini Bottom; a cashier at the famed Krusty Krab, putting in minimum effort for his minimum wage. So, for the pitiful amount he got from his job, Squidward decided his money was best put to good use. Recently, a cephalopod only bar had opened a half mile from his home, which was almost too good to be true. For a few hours, the giant pacific octopus could enjoy a sponge and starfish free evening, surrounded by fellow molluscs and sweet, sweet clarinet music. Not only that, but the bar held an art contest every Tuesday night, and Squidward was already a keen competitor. Sure, he hadn’t won any as of yet, but no doubt his fellow patrons would soon come to know and admire the genius that was his creations, he was sure of it.

“Another, please” The octopus grinned as he downed his pint, wiping the froth from around his mouth where it had formed a foamy beard.

“3 dollars please” The bartender held out a tentacle for the change and pocketed the coins as he slid another pint over.

Squidward allowed his eyes to wander a little as he casually sipped his second, taking in the art nouveau decorations and the more contemporary stained glass of the bar and walls. Each piece was of cephalopods, by cephalopods, which meant the interior was a sea of green and aqua canvases. Many artworks featured tentacles, a symbol of pride amongst the species for being such a distinguishing trait. Tonight, there was a band of nautiluses on the stage, playing a piece from one of Moscart’s symphonies. Squidward smiled as he hummed along under his breath, tapping a tentacle of his own on the counter to the rhythm. It was nice to relax surrounded by what he considered to be sophisticated creatures - certainly more refined than the fish he spent all day taking patty orders from. It was definitely better than hearing the annoying ‘bahahahaha” that would emanate from the kitchen, and next door at home, for hours on end. But then again, Squidward would rather spend an evening sticking his face in the Krusty Krab’s deep fat fryer than listen to Spongebob’s laugh if he had a choice. He chuckled a little to himself, his nose deflating and inflating as he smirked at his own joke.

“Heh, deep fat fryer, neheh”

He took another sip of his drink, relishing the warmth that spread through his torso. Whether it was the 5.5 percent in the beer, or the cosy fireplace in the corner of the pub, Squidward felt content for the first time all day. He hoped this place would stick around, his sanity needed it.

The nautilus band finished their piece, gathering a round of applause from the surrounding molluscs, as well as a few whistles from the back of the crowd. The leader gave a deep bow, and started taking requests from patrons, before ordering his band to strike up again, and the chatter resumed.

There had been a steady flow of customers in and out of the bar that evening and Squidward had quite enjoyed people watching. He’d seen almost every species of octopus he could name off the top of his head, including a couple of giant pacific’s like himself. One had been a rather attractive red head that he almost had the courage to approach, but it soon became obvious that she had arrived with another man. At any rate, Squidward wasn’t drunk enough to have the courage to seek that sort of company. He’d been feeling a little gloomy ever since Squilvia had politely let him down after their second date. Something about not being a fan of clarinets. Or, maybe his clarinet, Squidward wasn’t sure, but at least she was polite about it. He’d made a friend, which was worth something, right? But being almost middle aged, the octopus was sure he’d have to live out a life of solitude, forever doomed to be Squidward-on-his-own-Tentacles, no girlfriend or boyfriend (not that Squidward minded which, although he wouldn’t admit so in casual conversation) to speak of. He was still too wrapped up in his mental cursing to pay too much attention when a newcomer sat down on the stool beside him.

“Can I have a Slippery Clam – on the rocks please” The stranger grunted, and Reg got to work pouring the correct mix into a diamond patterned glass.

The voice made Squidward freeze up. It couldn’t be ... but it certainly sounded like him. As nonchalantly as he could, Squidward cast his eyes sideways. Phew, perhaps it wasn’t who he thought after all. He chuckled nervously to himself as he took another gulp of his bitter. For a second there, he had imagined his arch rival, Squilliam Fancyson the third had sat next to him. But the newcomer couldn’t possibly have been the same man. He was sitting at a slightly odd angle, so his face was obscured from Squidward’s vision for the time being. It was an octopus alright. Unlike Squilliam, who wore only the finest clothes and wouldn’t be caught dead in a common drinking establishment like the cephalopod bar, this one was wearing a rather tattered old grey tank top, which was threading in several places, as well as a worse for wear pair of old corduroy trousers which were much too short for his legs. No, this was an octopus down on his luck.

“No doubt that bozo Squilliam is relaxing in his 18 karat gold hot tub right now” He muttered resentfully under his breath “That octopus always did think he was better than me, just for having all that money”

*

_”All right band class, we’ll begin with ice breakers” The large Tuna fish proclaimed, holding a large orange ball above her head. “When I pass this to you, tell us your name, one fact about yourself and your favourite piece of music and then pass it to another student – I’ll go first. My name is Ms. Tunour, I speak two languages, and my favourite piece of music is ‘ode to joy’ because it makes me happy” She smiled warmly, and threw the ball at one of her students._

_The young octopus caught it in his tentacles and made a little cough as he prepared to speak, tossing back his thick black curls over his shoulder in a rather pompous display for a fourteen year old._

_“Ahem, my name is Squilliam Fancyson the third, my family owns three private islands, and my favourite piece of music is ‘Fancy in C minor’ – because my grandfather composed it” He smirked, tossing the ball towards a rather awe struck teenage Squidward, who had been hiding behind his blonde bangs until this point._

_“E-erm, I’m uh, Squidward Tentacles, I uhh” He looked at the floor. An interesting fact? What was so interesting about Squidward? He lived in an ordinary house, with an ordinary family, in an ordinary neighbourhood. In fact, he was a rather ordinary octopus all round. The young cephalopod blinked, totally at a loss for a single interesting thing he could say._

_“Don’t be shy Squidward, just one little fact” he heard the teacher say, jolting him back to his senses. He noticed the kid who had thrown the ball to him smirking._

_“How many private islands does your family own, Squidward Tentacles?” The black haired octopus sneered._

_“We don’t all need a fact that interesting, Squilliam” Ms.Tunour remarked, already sounding slightly annoyed with the vain teenager. She turned to smile kindly at the shyer creature. “What about your favourite colour, Squidward?”_

_“Oh uhh, I guess I like, um, orange” He was beginning to feel a little flush on his face and he wanted to pass the ball along already and get over the embarrassment._

_“And your favourite piece of music?” Ms.Tunour prompted, but not unkindly._

_“Ah, uhhhhhh” Squidward felt a little bead of sweat break out under his bangs. “Well, I suppose I like Cephalopod Sonata ... it’s uh, nice”_

_What an idiot he was. Face burning; he threw the ball at a young swordfish in the group, hoping the embarrassment would wear off. He noticed the first octopus’s eyes were still lingering on him, his unibrow in a high arch of mockery. Oh great, so this Squilliam guy was one of those high class snob boys. Squidward just hoped he wouldn’t have too many encounters with him during the next few years of high school band class._

*

“Can I get a packet of seanuts?” There was that familiar voice again.

The octopus had shifted to a side profile by now, and Squidward felt his three hearts drop to his stomach. Not only did this stranger sound like Squilliam, but in the centre of his forehead there was an unmistakable, bushy, black unibrow.

“Squi-squi-squilliam?” Squidward couldn’t hide the hint of surprise from his voice.

The surly octopus slowly turned his attention on his rival and Squidward realised he hadn’t been mistaken; it was Squilliam Fancyson alright in all his – no wait. This wasn’t the high brow snob Squidward knew of so well. This was a poor, dishevelled citizen in tatty clothes and with heavy bags under his eyes.

Without saying a word, Squilliam downed his shot and slammed the base of glass on the counter with a resolute ‘ching’.

“Well well well, if it isn’t shoeshine Squiddy” He muttered darkly, taking a seanut from his packet and chewing it aggressively. “If I wasn’t wallowing in my own self pity I might have said hello”

“Squilliam what ... happened?” Squidward asked timidly, before frowning “This isn’t another white chocolate truffle party trick is it? Let me guess, you’re here to buy everyone a round if they let you play solo”

Squilliam gave a bark of laughter, almost choking on another legume in the process.

“Pah, that was a mere costume trick to amuse myself. There’s nothing amusing about digging through fountains for spare change for a shot, for Neptune’s sake” He crushed a few splinters of shell under his tentacle. “You wouldn’t know about that, would you? Not with your cushy little cashier job”

Squidward gave a small wheeze, unable to believe what he was hearing.

“Cushy? Aren’t you the guy who laughed in my face for that job? Where’s your balloon-slash-casino now, Mr.Fancyson?”

The other didn’t respond to him, just ordered another drink from the bartender and dug through his pockets for the change. Reg stared at him closely as he poured another shot.

“Fancyson ey? Aint you the guy who got into trouble with the Lucky Dollars?”

Squilliam’s lip twitched into an almost smile.

“Unfortunately the same”

“The Lucky Dollars?” Squidward asked, perplexed.

The cuttlefish bartender slid a magazine from the rack over to him. Bottom Feeders Gossip mag, hardly the kind of thing he usually read, he preferred House Fancy Weekly or the art columns. Squidward shot a quick glance at his rival, but the other merely shrugged.

“I thought everyone in Bikini Bottom knew by now, it won’t make any difference to me if you do”

“If you say so” Squidward flicked through the first few pages until he found what he was looking for.

**LOCAL MILLIONARE SQUILLIAM FANCYSON LOSES FORTUNE THROUGH GAMBLING ADDICTION**

Squidward looked up again. Squilliam sipped his drink. Gulping, the cashier turned his attention back to the article.

 **Esteemed aristocrat Squilliam Fancyson the third recently lost his fortune – and his reputation – during a poker match in the The Lucky Dollars casino. Fancyson bit off more than he could chew during his round with the Sand Dollar brothers, costing him the money in the Fancyson vault. Inside reporters say the octopus has been losing more than he can sustain during recent run in’s with fellow millionaires, including Mr. Muraay, to whom he lost his house. Journalist Peter Pilchard reports that -**

Squidward set the magazine back down on the counter top, and let out a shallow breath. So it was true. After all this time, after all the years of bullying and torment, the cruel fates of karma had come back to bite Squilliam hard. He would have laughed if it wasn’t for the shock of the situation. Years of verbal harassment and humiliation had finally come one-eighty. Squidward hid the tiniest smile as he took another sip of his beer. If his teenage self could see how life would have gone, he’d have been cheering.

*

_”Well well well, if it isn’t Squidward-no-talent – how’s the clarinet playing coming along? Oops, my bad – I meant the clarinet screeching!”_

_Laugh erupted from all sides as the teenage octopus tried to frantically stuff his belongings back into his locker, ignoring the angry tears that were welling up in his eyes. It was just another day of public humiliation whenever that fancy octopus was around. Every band class he had to hear how Squilliam had just purchased the newest shell phone, or a sparkling hydro boat for his sixteenth birthday, or how he didn’t like the cafeteria food so he simply ordered his personal butler to drive him to Gordon Raysy’s restaurant for lunch in his silver limo._

_“Need a tentacle with that, Squiddy?” The black haired octopus chuckled, and grabbed the instrument from where it was sticking out of the open drawer._

_Squidward gasped, and tried to reach for it, but Squilliam was half a tentacle taller, and easily held the item out of reach, whilst his peers egged him on._

_“Why don’t you play us a little tune, Darren? Show Squiddy here how it’s done” He smirked, tossing the clarinet over the octopus’s head to a tall whale shark._

_“No no, I think he’d rather have a lesson from Billie!” He laughed, tossing it back over the crowds just as Squidward ran up._

_The eel caught it in his jaws and tossed it to another member, joining in the laughter, until the instrument was being thrown back and forth between the bullies, with Squidward running to and fro attempting to catch it and failing each time._

_“Squilliam, catch it!” One of the goons yelled, tossing it back to the original perpetrator of the game. He didn’t quite throw it far enough, and the clarinet fell a few inches from Squilliam’s feet, snapping as it hit the ground._

_“My clarinet!” Squidward yelped, retrieving the two halves of his prized possession as the crowd fell silent. “How could you?” He glared up at his rival, fury burning through every vein in his body. For a split second, he thought he saw a dash of fear, possibly remorse, in the teenager’s eyes. Then it hardened into cold indifference, or contempt._

_“Oops” Squillam said dryly “I suppose you can have one of my old clarinets to make up for it, I’m getting a brand new signed one this weekend anyway” He smirked, turning his back on the octopus on the floor. “Alright guys, that’s enough, how about we all go to McGee’s to let off some steam?”_

_The crowd cheered, and all followed the unibrowed octopus down the corridor. Squidward didn’t bother to get up just held the broken pieces of his instrument to his face. His father had put in 46 hours of overtime the past two months to save up enough money for this clarinet. It was old and a little rusted in parts, but it was Squidward’s. Or had been. He wiped a tear angrily from his cheeks, refusing to be broken by such a selfish display. He was on his way to put the instrument in the bin when the door to his band class opened up._

_“Squidward? I heard some commotion out here, is everything alright?”_

_“Oh. Well, I guess now it is. Just throwing away my clarinet”_

_“Whatever for?”_

_The octopus held out the two pieces of his instrument towards his teacher.  
“Oh my. Hmm, you know I think I can fix this, I dropped mine once and something similar happened, just needs a little glue and it’s still playable”_

_Dubious, Squidward followed Ms.Tunour back into the classroom whilst she dug through her drawer._

_“I bet Squilliam could have caught that if he wanted too” Squidward muttered as his teacher set about trying to mend his instrument “He doesn’t know the meaning of hard work, my dad spent hours to get me that”_

_Ms. Tunour sighed. It was an odd sound, like she had something she wanted to disclose but couldn’t for code of confidentiality._

_“That may be true Squidward, but he doesn’t understand the meaning of ‘dad’ either”_

_The cephalopod blinked, a little surprised._

_“What do you mean, miss?”_

_The tuna fish sighed again, but didn’t elaborate._

_“Oh... nothing. Here, let that dry for a few hours and it should be alright to play again”_

_“Heh, thank you Ms.Tunour!” Squidward beamed, feeling a little better and brushing her odd comment aside. “See you tomorrow!”_

_“See you tomorrow, Squidward, and say hi to your parents for me”_

*

“So what’s the plan now, Mr.Fancyson?” Reg asked whilst wiping down the surfaces.

The monobrowed octopus shrugged, circling the rim of the glass with his tentacle.

“Flounder along until a miracle happens I suppose. No one’s going to help an octopus with a gambling problem, and I don’t want to accept charity” He spat the last word out with a vengeance, as though it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“What, aren’t your dear mommy and daddy gonna pay your way out of this like they paid you through high school?” Squidward snapped, unable to conceal the malice in his question.

Squilliam laughed; a cold and callous sound. 

“Those hypocritical snobs? Pah, I haven’t seen my so called ‘father’ since I was about 5; Neptune knows he was on ‘business trips’ all the time and just liked to throw the green stuff at me on birthdays to pretend like he cared” Squilliam downed the last of his drink in one gulp “And as for that witch of a mother ... she wouldn’t know love if it slapped her in the face” His gaze turned on his old rival, slightly unsteady.

“You have no idea how lucky you are, Squidward Tentacles”

The cashier blinked, unsure if he had heard the octopus correctly. Squilliam thought HE was lucky? The same octopus he’d gone out of his way to put down, for all those years? All the embarrassment and humiliation now accumulated to Squilliam thinking he was lucky? Had Squidward gone mad?

“I know you think I’m trying to wind you up” Squilliam continued, glowering down at his dark reflection on the countertop “But I saw it all. I’ll tell you this, Squiddy, whether it’s the guilt or just because I’ve hit rock bottom, I’m almost jealous. Imagine going your whole childhood with everything you wanted – an abundance of the latest toys and games, but absolutely no affection. No hugs, no bedtime stories or ‘this is my son, I’m so proud of him’s. Just ‘yeah I guess you’re ten or whatever, go buy a shell phone or something’. If I dared bring home so much as a B+ it was always ‘You’re a disappointment, Squilliam’ or ‘You don’t deserve the Fancyson name, Squilliam’ or ‘No wonder your teacher favours the little bottom feeders over you, boy’. Would it have killed her just once, just ONCE, to say she loved me? To be a mom? To have acknowledged she had any part in my existence, rather than sponging me off to the nanny’s because she wanted to spend my father’s dough?”

Squidward was suddenly aware of a chill in the bar, and he sat motionless, unsure of what, if anything, he could possibly say to his high school enemy. He hadn’t realised Squilliam’s had grown up in such an environment; he had only seen the insane wealth and inheritance from his outside, poor perspective.

“Then, one night, oh how I’ll never forget it” Squilliam’s tentacle tightened around his empty glass “Parent’s evening. I saw you. You, of all the octopuses in all of the ocean. You got a C in music class. I had a smug little smirk, I was so sure your dad was going to give you a what for – and what did he do? He hugged you. He ... he hugged you.” The cephalopod’s eyes were transfixed on his own reflection, and his shoulders shook slightly. “I got a B in that assignment ... the best in the class. I wondered, just maybe, perhaps this would show my mother how much better I was than all of you. And she-she-she ... she hit me” Squilliam gently touched his right cheek, as though he could still feel the sting “We got home and she just ... blew up. She’d never struck me before, and she never struck me again, but I didn’t forget that. So yes, Mr.Shoeshine Squidward Q.Tentacles, barnacles knows you’re a lucky octopus”

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two for a few moments as Squidward allowed the words to resonate with him. Was that really what was going on under the surface the whole time? Squilliam’s need to humiliate him was really some sort of desire to have that upper hand, to prove his superiority in the form of wealth and success, because it was all he knew. That didn’t make any of it right, of course, but it was at least a different perspective on things. He’d also never seen Squilliam so dishevelled; he wasn’t lying about the rock bottom part. Despite his many – many – faults, Squidward couldn’t help but feel just a twinge of pity for his old rival. Perhaps he even wanted to help him a little bit.

“Listen, uh, Squilliam” The octopus rubbed the back of his neck “I know it’s ... not ideal but if you really need to get back on your feet then I can offer you a place to stay for the time being – no trickery this time, you here?”

“I said I don’t want any damn charity” The monobrowed mollusc hissed “Especially from the likes of you, Squidward”

“Well enjoy shifting through fountains for loose change then” Squidward shrugged. It wasn’t like he wanted Squilliam Fancyson in his house anyway.

The other octopus blew air through his nose sharply, revaluating his priorities. Sleeping on the streets was certainly no fun, the past few days he had been cold and hungry, and Squidward’s house or not it would at least be warm and safe, and he could have a better meal that seanuts or bread that was about to be thrown out of the bakery. But Squilliam was a proud cephalopod, and he wouldn’t accept help that easily, so he stayed quiet.

By now, it was almost midnight, and many of the patrons had begun to leave, hugging and high fiving fondly as they left the pub, with fond goodbyes and plenty of ‘see you tomorrow’s and ‘we’ll catch up again soon!’s. Reg was tidying away glasses, stocking up plates and wiping down the surfaces, murmuring thank yous and goodbyes to the customers as they filed out of the door. A cold current whistled from outside, and Squilliam shivered where he sat, knowing he would be facing the night alone in that climate.

Squidward had gone to fetch his warm coat from the rack, but he stopped for a moment, considering. He didn’t have far to walk, and at any rate he would soon be home, tucked up in his nice toasty bed. He sighed, cursing the small part of him that had some empathy for his rival’s story.

“Here, Squilliam” He held out the coat “If you won’t accept my house then at least take my coat. It’s ... warmer than just your top”

Squilliam was about to respond the same way he had done earlier, but he stopped when another cold blast whistled into the tavern. He knew he couldn’t drag himself out of the mess he’d created on his own, even if it did mean accepting some help.

“T-thanks, Squidward” He muttered, taking the item and wrapping it around his shoulders. It was warm alright, and smelt slightly of fast food, no doubt from Squidward’s job. Somehow the smell was ... comforting. It was like food after all, right?

Squidward waited to see if his rival had anything else to say, but Squilliam turned his back on him. Sighing, Squidward stepped out into the cold current, shivering slightly, but with a slight smile on his face. He’d done the right thing after all, enemy or no enemy. As he started to walk home, he thought back to high school yet again, one of the last moments he had seen Squilliam when they were both teenagers.

*

_”It’s time for the Bikini Bottom Band Class prom awards!” An excitable angelfish yelled from the stage, prompting everyone to gather around her. She waved a red envelope in the air, which created a ripple of excitement through the crowds of 18 year old sea creatures as they speculated on what their award was._

_“First up – our prom king and queen for this year! Drum roll please-“_

_The creatures began to clap their fins, tentacles and claws together in anticipation._

_“Ethan Tang and Sussette Anemoney!”_

_The crowds cheered and whistled in approval as the nominated winners came forward to accept their crowns and title. Once the applause died down, the angelfish took out a small stack of cards from the table next to her._

_“Next, we have the ‘most likely to’ winners! First up – Darren! Voted most likely to become a sports star!”_

_There was a lot of commotion for the whale shark, who grinned and made a fist pump into the air._

_“Next, Billie! Voted most likely to publish a book!”_

_“And you’ll all get signed copies” The eel laughed, shaking his tail._

_One by one, the graduating class for the year received every type of award from most likely to run for mayor to most likely to become famous, until there were only two classmates left._

_“Squilliam! Voted mostly likely toooo ..... become rich!”_

_“Oh I already am, but I’m sure I’ll get richer once I leave this old place and become a famous musician” He laughed nasally, stroking his black curls and tossing a couple over his shoulder arrogantly._

_The others laughed, and then turned their attention to the last nominee. Squidward held his breath, tucking his blonde bangs over one shoulder as he eagerly waited to see what his classmates had voted him for. In the last four years of his life, he’d always been a bit of a black sheep amongst his peers, somewhat of a loser. He hadn’t achieved anything memorable in his time there, and was one of the few creatures to not have a date for prom. Interestingly, another member was Squilliam, but it wasn’t for lack of interest – plenty of girls had asked him already, but he had brushed them aside under the pretence of being ‘too good’ for them – although it seemed more so that he simply didn’t like any of the girls in his class. Or, well, any girls for that matter._

_“Squidward! Most likely tooooo ...” there was a tiny pause as the angelfish stared at the card. Squidward held his breath in anticipation. Become a musician? Become an artist? Either one would be his dream, he just had to hope-_

_“suck eggs”_

_Silence. Deafening silence. Squidward wasn’t entirely sure he had heard correctly. His class voted him the most likely to ... suck eggs? Exactly what was that supposed to mean? His face burnt in humiliation. Somewhere in the crowd, he heard snickering, and he just knew it was Squilliam. No doubt the octopus had set him up for this too, one last attempt to get at him before school was out. Squidward was very glad this was the last time he’d have to see his classmates._

_“I uh, think I heard my mom pull up” Squidward rubbed the back of his neck timidly. Everyone was still staring at him “So I’ll just – go.”_

_The cephalopod walked briskly to large double doors that led out into the corridor. For a split second as he walked past, he locked eyes with Squilliam. There was an odd emotion on his face that Squidward still couldn’t really place, even now, and since it was only for a second, there was no hope of recalling it accurately._

_Out in the hall, Squidward slumped down against the wall and began to cry. His one shot at maybe, just maybe, having something nice from his band class, and Squilliam had ruined that too. He wiped his eyes fiercely. No, Squilliam would not control his life like this._

_“I’ll show him” The young octopus muttered to no one in particular “Even if it takes me a hundred years, mark my words Squilliam Fancyson, one day you’ll be begging me for help, and I’ll be there to laugh in your face just like you did mine”_

*

“Squidward! Squidward! Squidward Q. Tentacles, I am TALKING TO YOU”

The teal mollusc turned in surprise to see his rival walking towards him, wrapping his coat tightly around his shoulders. Squilliam panted slightly, as he had been running to catch up as Squidward was only a few steps from his house. The night was cool and quiet, and the hoary moon shone high above the surface, casting silvery ripples onto the ocean floor, and over the two cephalopods as they stood, mere feet apart.

“I-I’ll take your ... offer”

“Offer?” Squidward blinked.

“I-I’ll stay ... at your house” Squilliam didn’t look too happy about agreeing to it, but it at least showed he’d let his pride down for the time being. Squidward smirked, a slight taste of sweet vengeance coursing through his body.

“Alright, Fancyboy. But let’s lay down a few rules” He jabbed a tentacle into Squilliam’s chest “Firstly, no freeloaders – I want you to get a job that won’t gamble away your earnings on. I have bills to pay and you have upkeep to hold too, you’re not a child. Secondly, No funny business or trickery – one wrong move and you’re OUT, you hear? No second chances this time. Oh, and also please have a bath when you get, ‘street smell’ is not my favourite eau de parfum”

“Yeah yeah Squiddy, don’t get your tentacles in a twist, I’ll be an exemplary house guest”

“Hm. Also, I want you back out of here in at least 3 months”

“Sure, sure – unless you want me to stay longer by then” The unibrowed octopus grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I doubt that” Squidward snorted, about to put his key in the lock.

“Wait, Squidward”

“Yes, Squilliam?”

Squilliam extended a tentacle out towards his rival.

“How about we start over? I mean ...” He drew it back, momentarily, to rub the back of his neck awkwardly “I know I can’t exactly take back ... everything I’ve done, and I wouldn’t ask you to forgive me on principle, but I suppose I had the wrong kind of motives and well ... you were still willing to do this for me even after all that so ... we can try” He smiled nervously, holding out his arm again.

Squidward looked at it suspiciously for a few seconds, and then hesitantly shook it. The other beamed, showing rows of impossibly pearly white teeth, even without proper dental hygiene for a couple of days.

“My name is Squilliam Fancyson, nice to meet you, sir”

“Yeah um, I’m Squidward Tentacles. Nice to uh, meet you Squilliam”

“I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine then!” The monobrowed mollusc beamed, tucking his hands inside the coat pockets. “This is a really nice coat, you should try it sometime”

“Uh, I will” Squidward turned around, wondering what in Neptune’s good name he was getting himself into. Slowly, he turned the key in the lock, and hesitantly allowed Squilliam Fancyson into his home, wondering if he was going to regret this.


End file.
